I've Been Ate Up and Spit Out

My plans for this weekend were simple.

Friday - Catch up with Bean, who I had not seen for a week (because Ms. Man decided that she was going to call in sick after being on vacation for 8 days. I'm sure that she really did injure her back, in the same way that I'm sure someone who can party as hard as she says she does AND can handle very large pitbulls like she actually does is really entitled to military disability.. Whatever.)

Saturday - Head on over to #2's house for Hero's graduation party around noon to take care of all the arrangements. (Because I was hosting it there, since their house was more central, not because #2 & Mrs. #2 are incompetent.) Bean and the kids would join me about five and we'd leave around eleven after helping clean-up.

Sunday - Do a thorough cleaning of Oliver and Tallulah's rooms in preparation for Summer.

See. Simple. Uncomplicated.

Here's what actually happened.

Friday, Mom graciously took the kids off our hands.

So far, so good.

So we went to pick up Bean's truck (yay!! no more car sharing!!) then decided to get the groceries for Hero's party.

After that, we more or less came home and went to bed, being the old people that we are.

I did get to spend time with Bean, but I was envisioning a quiet dinner.

Beggers can't be choosers.

Saturday, the party went more or less as planned and everyone had a good time. Except that Tallulah was a monster.

She kept trying to pull:

He hit me back!!!!!!!!!!!

and

But I only pinched him once!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yeah.. sorry. You can't pull off a tattle if you have to tattle on yourself for the story to make sense.

But when we got home, we found that the dogs had chewed through a 6 x 6 square piece of the carpet where we keep them penned in the dining room.

Fuck me.

We have every intention of replacing all the carpet in the front of the house with tile. And are even in the process of a refinance to do that, but I'm not ready!!

Sunday morning after I got the dogs all outside (because I didn't clean that shit up when we got home at 1 AM), I got a closer look at it, and there was tile underneath.

So guess what we did Sunday??



Because even kindof odd forest green linoleum looks better than holey shit stained carpet. And it certainly smells better.

Now if I can only figure out how to get the fucking glue up.

Because of the holey carpet I only got Tallulah's room done on Sunday. She's neater than Oliver, and really it was just a matter of tossing out some of the stuff she neatly hoards.

Today after work I tackled The Beast.

This is just what was under Oliver's bed, after he cleaned it.



Tomorrow's trash day (thank God) and there are about 10 big black trash bags out there mostly full of crap from the kids rooms.

And I am now sore everywhere.

Vacation Part 6 - Bean’s Bossy and a Cigarette Thief

By the time we got home from the airport, I was really starting to contemplate whether childbirth was worse than the pain I was experiencing.

It was a really weird pain – kind of like I was seriously hungry.

I don’t really like hospitals, and thought that laying in my bed with a heating pad was the best idea ever, but Bean started making threats like – “If you don’t feel better soon, I’m taking you to the Emergency Room”.

That sounds like fun, right??

Anyway – I got to sleep with my heating pad. But in the morning, I did NOT feel like going to work.

So Bean got all bossy and made me go to the ER.

We were there for hours. Not in the waiting room – we got into an room right away, but it took most of the day where I was tortured tested before I got admitted.

They weren’t really sure what the deal was, because I have an IUD and you know, since it’s there obviously it could be a problem.

I spent 2 days laying in a bed waiting for a gynecologist to come in and consult because of that.

Though I did get A LOT of action while in the hospital. Three different people felt me up, and not one of them was my husband. I'm such a hussy.

The real problem was that I brought cigarettes, and the nurse said they couldn’t let me go smoke because it’s a non-smoking campus.

Whatever. As soon as they’d let me up to walk, I was finding somewhere to smoke.

Except that Bean took my fucking cigarettes with him to work.

So the next day I made him leave me some, and I got to smoke.

But on the third day he took my fucking lighter!!

Really?? Once, is an accident. Twice is not. I’m taking notes buddy. Just remember that you’re having surgery in January. Maybe you’re smokes will magically disappear.